Lucky Marimo Balls

My latest obsession in the plant world came to me last fall fresh from my fourth-born's carry-on bag. 

During her visit to Seoul, she and her sister, my third-born, had found these algae balls in a trendy Common Ground shop and instantly knew I would love them.

My daughters were definitely right.

^ Those first two were tiny babies, about six months old when they came into my life, probably close to a year now. The third, larger and slightly older ball was a Christmas gift from my daughter's boyfriend. Although none of these fuzzy green children have shown much sign of growth, they are all happy and healthy as can be.

Caring for marimo, as they are called in Japan, is delightfully simple. Natives of deep cool northern lakes in Japan and Iceland, they ask for very little: just keep them out of direct sunlight and refresh them with ordinary tap water every two weeks. 

On my trip to Seoul this past January, I decided to treat myself to more marimo. Yes, I know that they are widely available in the U.S. but there's something special about buying these little cuties from their Asian homeland. Along with a few more youngsters, I indulged in a twenty-something marimo that charms me with its chubby spherical self.

I smile every time I walk past him.

But it was my fourth-born who walked past him this morning and said, "Hey, mom, your big moss ball is floating! Did you know that's good luck?"

What's this? I fled to the internet for some quick research on the phenomenon, and found a series of scientific articles about photosynthesis, air bubbles, and relative buoyancy.

Which is all well and good.

But I prefer my daughter's simpler approach. 

My marimo balls undoubtedly bring me good luck. Because they make me happy.

And, once again, my daughter is definitely right.